


It wasn't our fault, this time

by wickersnap



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Body Swap, Everyone's happy, Kissing, Multi, self-indulgent and not to be taken seriously at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickersnap/pseuds/wickersnap
Summary: Hank wakes up feeling not quite himself. Apparently the same goes for most of his friends, too.Well, at least no one's managed to blow up the mansion, this time.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy/Alex Summers, Jean Grey/Logan (X-Men)/Scott Summers, Other background - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97





	It wasn't our fault, this time

**Author's Note:**

> This is nonsense, I'm kinda sorry. I needed something fun and harmless, and also I really love Hank and need him to be happy.  
> Think X-Men Animated Series meets alternate timeline films but this time everyone's alive and cool with each other.

There’s a sharp, terrified yell from the other end of the hall. Hank is awake in an instant, throwing off the covers and stumbling across the room to the door. His centre of mass is totally off, weird and uncomfortable and much lighter than the Beast’s though the serum is long overdue wearing off. He pauses, torn between the very Jean-sounding cry and the unsettling sensation of looking down at foreign hands. A powerful feeling thrums beneath his skin, close to the surface and heating him from the inside. He turns towards the shuffling on the bed, where his own, very blue face is looking back.

“Hank?” he apparently asks himself. “What’s going on?”

Hank flounders for a moment, checking over his body once, twice and thrice as if it’ll return to normal in the seconds between. “I’ll be back in a second,” he says, eventually, and flees the room with a vague sense of horror. Now that his brain is back in gear, Hank is fully and terribly aware that he’s currently inhabiting the body of Alex Summers.

When he gets to Jean’s door there are already people standing outside, whispering loudly to each other in increasing frustration and volume. Scott and Jean are closest, gesturing wildly and unsteadily as Logan stands beside them, a hand clenched tightly around the door frame and looking ready to topple any second.

“What’s going on?” Hank asks, and Jean yelps again.

“I don’t know!” she says, falling forward and almost into Scott. She rights herself and gropes for her chest, squishing it down in a painful-looking way.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Logan says gently, and Hank does a double take. 

“Your balance is all wrong!” Jean hisses.

“Hank?” his own body calls from their bedroom door. “Everyone all right?”

“I don’t know!” Hank replies. “What the hell is going on?”

“Alex?” Jean asks. “What—?”

A screech from another room cuts through the air, followed by a rarely-heard laughter. A sudden thunder crashes above the house, close enough that every window rattles in its frame. Doors all down the corridor start opening and the faces of all the concerned children peer out. Rogue and Ororo come running out to join them, but Ororo is giggling in a way he’s never seen before in his life. Another scream flies past them, fading as fast as it approaches and veering off through the mansion. Kurt appears in front of them for a split second before falling on his ass and vanishing in another puff.

“Is anyone hurt?” Hank yells over the din. There’s a murmur of dozens of voices as they all gossip and check each other over, but thankfully no one steps forward with a major incident. Another thunderclap crashes overhead and Ororo jumps. Kurt reappears, his hands flying to his face to cover his eyes and ears. 

“This is your fault!” Jean says harshly, turning on Scott. 

“What?” Scott growls. “How the hell is this _my_ fault? If you hadn’t been clingin’ like a barnacle—”

“What on Earth is going on?” demands Erik, striding quickly towards them and rattling all of the light fixtures against the walls. Behind him follows the Professor, looking more disgruntled than he has in a long while.

“I’m not sure,” Hank tells him, feeling frazzled and dizzy and in over his head. The usual. The storm outside startles him, nearly tripping over his newly awkward feet. 

“Sorry darlin’,” Ororo says in completely the wrong accent. “I haven’t got much practice with this.”

“Hank!” Erik snaps, turning to Hank-but-actually-Alex hanging around Hank’s shoulder. “Do you have any clue as to what’s happened?”

Alex grimaces. “I’m not Hank.” 

“For crying out loud—where _is_ Hank?”

“Here,” Hank says, arms folding in what can only be Alex’s leftover muscle memory. Lightning throws the corridor into a sharp monochrome and rain begins to splatter against the windows. Ororo buries her face in her hands and Rogue sighs.

“I don’ like this one bit,” Scott grumbles.

Hank gazes over them, assessing. Pietro finally manages to get a hold of himself and come to a standstill, keeling over with the sudden loss of momentum and taking Logan down with him.

“I think it’s safe to assume that all of us have switched bodies,” Hank says slowly, probing. By the resulting looks of distress, he figures he’s right.

“I need a trim,” Alex mumbles, unhelpfully draping his much larger body over Hank’s shoulders. ‘Jean’ turns on them and gives Alex a disbelieving glare.

“You’re all very loud,” the Professor hisses, fingers working at his temple. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Right,” Hank says, feeling like the only sane person in the house. “Scott, stop manhandling Jean’s body; I doubt it’s either of your faults, anyway. Ororo, please try to help Rogue control your powers. Try not to move, Kurt, and help Pietro stay in one place. I’m going to see what’s going on. Get the children back to bed.” He tries to step away, only to find himself trapped under his own massive frame. “For the love of God, Alex, _you_ go back to bed if you’re going to sleep.”

“Sorry honey,” Alex yawns, smirking and ruffling his hair before trudging off. 

“What the fuck is happening?” another voice demands and Hank groans. Everyone turns to see Alex staring down _two_ versions of Angel. One of them grimaces and her skin ripples blue, but she steps around him without comment and comes to join them. A pattering of more footsteps comes echoing down.

“We heard shouting!” Warren calls, closely followed by Sean, Remy, Darwin and Jubilee from the other wing. None of them looks to be unsteady, struggling or confused.

“There’s been a mix up,” Hank explains. “Some of us have switched bodies. I’m going to figure it out, so if you’ll please excuse me…”

“I’ll come with you,” Erik says, following closely and impervious to all of the odd looks he gets. 

“Professor,” Hank says lowly, even though they’re out of earshot. “What do you make of this?”

“I’m not quite sure,” not-Erik replies. “It doesn’t appear to be malicious, at least at first glance. Maybe it’s an effort to confuse and weaken us.”

“Who d’you think could have done this?”

“I have no idea, Hank, truly.”

Hank ducks into the study and switches on the television, unsurprised when it picks up an emergency news broadcast.

_“—we have reports coming in from all over New England of people mysteriously switching bodies. It seems that those in physical contact for the short period during which this event occurred suddenly found themselves in each other’s places. The only observed occurrence in conjunction with this event was an unusual electromagnetic storm of unknown origins. Many of us are sure to be asking ourselves, is this the work of a dangerous mutant? We currently have our best authorities on state-wide investigations—”_

Hank sighs and switches the thing off again. “I think we’ve found our answer. Do we think this is the work of a mutant?”

Charles-as-Erik frowns. “I don’t know of anyone other than Apocalypse who might be able to cause such a catastrophic event, but that can’t be…”

“Let’s hope to hell it can’t,” Logan-Scott growls from the doorway. “’Ro’s getting the storm outside under control and the pipsqueaks’ve finally stopped bouncing off the walls. Angel’s lookin’ mighty upset, mind.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Charles smiles. 

“So,” he huffs, “what’re we gonna do?”

“If I can find out about that storm, I might be able to replicate the effects in the lab,” Hank says, reaching for glasses that aren’t there. “If I can amplify that, we should be able to fix the whole mansion in one quick electromagnetic pulse. God knows how the hell a _storm_ did this…”

“You all right doin’ that?”

He smiles. “I’ll shout if I need help.”

Logan grunts and ambles off, mumbling something about Alex and “fuckin’ weird”. Hank can agree with that, at least. 

“Haaaaank,” comes a familiar whine in a too-deep voice. “How are you not tired?” Alex wanders through the lab, large hands trailing the surfaces of the desks as he passes. Hank looks up from his graphs and glances to the phone. Nothing.

“I’m all right. Weren’t you sleeping?”

“Couldn’t. Your fur is really hot, you know that?” Hank raises a brow at him, unable to help the smile that rises with Alex’s amusement. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” he asks, crossing the lab to reach for his stash of serum. He picks a needle, fills it, and hides it behind his back.

“Well, I’m not gonna disagree on either front, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alex continues, “and yes, I know what you’re doing.”

“Busted,” Hank murmurs, even as Alex holds out his arm for the injection. He makes a horrible face as he shrinks and pales and Hank’s better features return all at once. It looks painful, too.

“Eugh, that’s awful.” Alex shivers, shaking himself out consciously. “How long has it been, anyway? You know I love both of your looks equally.”

“I don’t,” Hank replies shortly, and god, looking at him like this is actually _worse._

Alex, wearing his face, darts forward to kiss him. Hank makes a noise as he crashes into the desk behind him, grasping at Alex’s—his _own_ —arms. Hank runs his tongue over Alex’s bottom lip and tugs gently with his teeth, letting his fingers trail from his arms to his side to his waist. It’s a little odd, having to look up to kiss his boyfriend, but it’s not like he hasn’t before. He just hasn’t when he’s wearing Hank’s face.

“That’s really weird,” he breathes.

“Tis a bit,” Alex agrees. “I was just too irresistible not to, though.”

Hank laughs. “Don’t tell me; you’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Maybe,” he drawls, arms tightening around Hank’s waist. “But no. Just preparing for the possibility we get stuck like this.”

“Oh, Christ, do not wish that on us,” Hank begs.

“I don’t, but we haven't had a day off in ages, and this is fun. Any progress?”

“Some. I’m waiting for the next updates on the findings. It’s just such a shame I didn’t get to record anything myself—if I’d known something like this might happen I’d’ve had some of my instruments out ready.”

“None of us were ready for this,” Alex reminds him. “I’ll tell you something funny though.”

“What’s that?”

“Scott and Logan are wanderin’ around still trying to pretend they don’t fuck.” 

Hank sighs. “Of course. I think we’ve all learnt much too much about each other in the past hour than I’d ever like to.”

“You can say that again,” Alex grins.

“How are we doing, Hank?” asks Charles-Erik, knocking on the open door as he enters. Alex lets Hank go, propping himself beside him on the desk and swinging his legs.

“We have some information,” Hank says, returning to the fax machine. “I’m just waiting on a few more measurements until I can start trying to replicate it. The guys in New York have been very helpful, especially since you told them it wasn’t anything to do with us… Or Erik did, anyway.”

Charles quirks an unsettling smile on Erik’s lips. “I’m sure you find that very amusing.”

Hank smiles in return. “Only a little. How’s he taking to your wheels?”

“Oh, like he does everything,” he sighs.

“How surprised are the juniors?” Alex asks gleefully.

Charles looks at him with an expression of condescension that is much better fitting. “We are much more adept at subtlety than you give us credit for, Alex. Nobody has said anything, or thought much of it, according to Erik. Oh, and he asked if you could turn the volume down, too. You’re rather loud and he says he’d rather hike through the Arctic than hear much more of whatever’s in your head.”

“I’m sure you already know what’s there, Professor,” Alex scoffs. “If anything, it’s your fault for not warning him.”

“Oh, like you warned Scott?” Hank asks pleasantly.

“Hah, are you kidding? He’s probably rifling in there for blackmail already.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “I find one is much the same as another, in this house. Anyway—”

The phone chooses a life-saving moment to ring shrilly through the lab. Hank dives for it. “Excuse me, gentlemen. It’s time for me to get back to work.”

“Erik,” Charles says, closing the door to his office softly behind him.

“I heard you coming,” Erik says with a wry smile. He lets the back of a palm rest on one arm of his wheelchair, stretched out to Charles. Charles crosses the room and takes it, kneeling next to him in an odd not-quite-reversal of their roles. “Stop thinking so much.”

“Can you hear me so well through my shields?” Charles asks, surprised.

Erik smiles. “Darling, I can always hear you.”

“That sounds very odd coming from you.”

“It does. I don’t think I’ll say that again.”

“That’s probably for the best. Anyway, Hank says he’ll be running tests soon, so we should be back to normal before tomorrow.”

“That’s good.”

Charles strokes a hand down Erik’s forearm. “Is it Pietro?”

Erik hums. “I didn’t want him to feel forced to tell me about his relationship.”

“I don’t think he did,” Charles says. “He wouldn’t have said anything, otherwise, I’m sure.”

“One can hope.” He squeezes Charles’ hand and brings it to his mouth to kiss. “This is very disconcerting.”

Charles laughs. “At least you can hear it’s me. The rest of us aren’t so lucky.”

“Unfortunately, I can hear everyone else, too. It makes me wonder if any of them ever actually grew up.”

“Did we?” Charles asks, smiling at Erik’s consternation. “Come on now, let’s go downstairs and I’ll make us breakfast.”

“Hey, Ororo?” Rogue asks. She’s cuddled up next to the kids on the sofa, trying her best to keep her emotions steady. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, Rogue,” Ororo replies gently, setting a tray of warm drinks on the table. She hands them around with a smile and an extra pat on the head for all the gigglers. “How are you doing?”

Rogue flexes her wrist. “I think I got it under control. I’ve done this a little before, after all.”

“Indeed you have, and you’re all the better for it.” Ororo perches on the arm of the couch, handing Rogue her coffee. “I wonder how Jean, Scott and Logan are doing.”

“Probably all right. You know how they are.”

“Arguing, again,” Angel tells them. She wanders into the room, still flicking back and forth between Raven and herself.

“You could always just stay as Raven,” Rogue suggests.

Angel rolls her eyes. “She said it freaked her out, as if she’s one to talk. I do prefer looking like myself, too, it’s just hard. I don’t know how she does it so well.”

“Practise,” Ororo sighs. “Lots and lots of practise. Where is she now?”

“Helping the kids. At least she’s used to looking like someone else.”

“Alex!” comes a sudden shout from down the corridor. “Wipe that weird grin off Hank’s face, you’ll scare the children!” Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.

“Ouch,” Rogue hisses, and Jake and Millie giggle at her side.

Ororo nods. “I see she’s as charming as ever.”

“As ever,” Angel agrees.

Pietro holds Kurt by the shoulders, facing him out over the lawn. “You’ve gotta feel it, like time’s suddenly speeding up or you’re just taking huge leaps and want to bring it down. I know everyone’s saying it’s hard to explain, but… Just try it.”

“This is much harder than teaching you to teleport,” Kurt mutters, and then he takes off. Pietro watches him take one lap around the lawn and then another, eventually managing to slow down very unsteadily and come crashing back to the floor. “Ah, ouch.”

“That was a good one!” Pietro cheers. “You’re getting better each time.”

Kurt rolls over and pushes himself up. “It is very strange having five fingers.”

“Talk about it, I feel like I’m wearing mittens. And this tail…”

“Don’t think about it,” Kurt says. “It will be a normal limb if you stop thinking about it.”

Pietro pushes out his bottom lip. “I suppose. But that’s no fun.”

“Neither is falling on my butt,” Kurt mutters. Pietro takes his hand and squeezes it once.

“Come on then, again.”

“Are you all right there, Jeannie?” Logan asks.

“I’m all right,” she replies. “Your body is just a little heavier.”

“That would probably be the several hundred pounds of adamantium,” Scott mutters. “Need a lift?”

Jean looks up at him from her position on the sofa and laughs in his face. From Scott’s perspective, things must be looking back to normal. She covers her mouth to try to stop the giggles. “I’m sorry Scott, darling, I don’t mean to laugh.”

“I could do it!” Scott insists. “You work out!”

“I work out, but not enough to deadlift the Wolverine himself,” she says. “The only time I’ve moved him is with my mind.”

“I’m not _that_ heavy,” Logan growls.

“Well then.” Scott ignores him and screws his eyes shut tightly. It’s a funny look on Jean’s face.

“Scott!” Jean yelps. “Don’t try to—!”

Beside them, a lamp rockets straight up off the end table. It stops inches from the ceiling and lowers itself down more slowly, but with a distinct wobble. The end table itself is next to move, accidentally ramming itself into the sofa arm on the way. Scott winces, but practises manoeuvring it for a few seconds more. 

“You ready?” he asks, and Logan snorts.

“Nope,” Jean says gleefully, shrieking when she lifts up off the sofa. Scott makes a strained noise in the back of his throat, but she gets to her (Logan’s) feet easily enough.

“Fuck, that’s hard,” Scott pants after. “I don’t know how you do this.”

“Practise, my love.” She runs a stubby hand over his cheek and kisses him softly, smiling. Logan wonders how weird she must feel to be kissing her own mouth, and decides that as much as he loves her, he doesn’t want to find out. But that won’t stop him subjecting Summers to it.

“You get all the fun,” he mumbles, stepping in to kiss Scott next. It’s easy, he tells himself, because he looks like Jean. “Good job Slim.”

Scott clears his throat. “Thanks.”

“Are you enjoying yourself, Pretty Boy?”

“No! I’m… Oh, Hank—err, Alex!”

Jubilee watches as Kurt and Pietro go careening past, whooping and cheering and riling up the kids. Warren is no help corralling any of them, darting around the treetops in pursuit of Raven in her newfound wings. 

“She always did look good in the air,” Darwin sighs. 

Jubilee frowns. “You know that’s not really Angel, right?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a view.”

“Huh. Guess not.”

Something comes flying through an open window of the mansion and someone who sounds a lot like Scott shouts after it. The table hovers above the lawn for a moment before it raises itself up again, floating back over the balcony rail.

“I guess they’re having fun, too,” Sean says. “I bet Moira will have a heart attack just hearing about all this.”

“Don’t kill the lady off early, mon ami,” Gambit tuts, but Jubilee shrugs.

“If nothing else has done it yet, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“Professor!” Hank yells, running through the house hours later. “Charles, it’s ready!”

“That’s a good sound,” Jean-Logan says, poking her head out of a sitting room as he passes. Charles meets him halfway down the corridor to his study.

“Brilliant news, Hank. We shall have to let the others know.”

Hank nods. “Right. I’ll switch it on at your signal. It’s going to take a lot of power, but we can deal with that I’m sure.”

“It’ll work. We trust you.”

Hank nods and races back to the lab, thrilled that he can run at full pelt and stay within the limits of the human body. He swings in through the door to the sound of Alex’s laughter, and is immediately gathered straight up into his arms. He laughs in return and beats a weak fist against his chest.

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” he says. Alex grins.

“As if you aren’t. You’re just upset you can’t swing from the ceiling while you’re me.”

“I can’t believe they had to _persuade_ you to get down,” Hank sighs. “You’re so odd, you know that?”

Alex’s hands slide from his waist to the small of his back, already pulling them closer together again. “I sure do, Nerdface, but you love me for it.”

“Yes, yes, very funny. This is your face, by the way.”

“I know, it’s such a terrible shame.”

 _If I’m not interrupting anything, Hank,_ says Erik’s voice in his mind. _We would quite like to get back to normal._

“Right, well, take a good look,” Hank says, and reaches blindly for the switch.

“No fun,” Alex mutters, leaning in instead to kiss him. It really is sort of disturbing, kissing his own face even if it is Alex inside, so Hank fumbles quickly along the cable line and turns the power on. He sinks properly into the kiss as his machine hums gently and Alex swipes his tongue behind his teeth, waiting. Nothing drastic happens from one moment to the next, no terrible dizziness or disorientation, although his vague situational awareness switches quite abruptly to looking down instead of up and clutching Alex’s back instead of his neck.

“It worked,” he breathes, pushing their foreheads together to part for air. 

“I think it did,” Alex agrees. Hank opens his eyes slowly and grins, met by exactly the pretty blue eyes and freckled nose he’d so hoped to see.

 _Good job, Hank,_ Charles flickers by to tell him, gone in a fraction of a second. He reckons he probably won’t be needed for a while.

“Up,” he says, walking Alex backwards. Alex bites down on his grin, looking up from beneath his lashes even as he sits himself once again on the table. His legs shuffle open in a well-practised movement, and Hank steps in between.

“Thanks for all your good work, Doctor McCoy,” Alex teases. “How about you take some time off?”

Hank smiles. “It’s a pity I can’t lock the door from here.” Alex’s hands slip around his neck, undeterred.

“You know, I really don’t care.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let Scott Say Fuck
> 
> Come and chat with me on [tumblr](https://silverxsakura.tumblr.com/) if you wish


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